Of Blood and Water: Campground Murders (Virgil McLendon Thrillers Book 1)

by catt dahman

  “Sure. But maybe the person had all kinds of energy to expend.”

  “And it would take someone smart,” Virgil suggested.

  “Very smart,” said the man as he grinned.

  “I understand a teddy bear that belonged to one of those little girls who was killed was found in your vehicle. How do you explain that?” Virgil asked.

  “I can’t.”

  “No theories?”

  “I could suggest theories for hours, but it was there, and here we are, right?”

  “Right. It’s strong evidence against you. I figure it this way: we have you, and you’re not going to get out of the charges.”

  “Okay.”

  Virgil felt frustration rising and said, “I see you’re from out of town and visiting. Where have you been staying?”

  The man shrugged. “Here and there.”

  Vivian spoke, “You’re young and physically fit. Strong. You could subdue a young girl or boy fairly easily.”

  “I could if I wanted to.”

  “Did you kidnap Jillian Berger from her tent?”

  “Nope.”

  “Can I get you a soda? Anything?” Virgil pushed an ashtray across the table.

  The man Eric lit a cigarette that matched the brand Virgil had found, and Virgil said, “I bet you like to smoke all the way to the filter.”

  Blink.

  “Oh, by the way, we found your nest where you watched the counselor find those little girls you left for shock value. I counted four of you that were there. You didn’t know we knew that, did you? We know there was a girl with you, too.”

  “No. I stay to myself. I like to be alone,” Eric said. His tone was defensive for once.

  “Some cops do this in a different way. Me, I am impatient, and I have a lot to do, so I’m going to get to the crux of the matter. You’re a stranger in town, and you fit the suspect we’ve been looking for. I am fairly sure we’ll match your fingerprints as well. The teddy bear, well, it is damning evidence, and once we fit some pieces in place, I think we’ll get you convicted of all the murders. What do you think, Viv?”

  She sniffed, “I think he’s going to fry for this.”

  “Me, too. I am willing to give you a break and put in a good word with the district attorney, and maybe we can get you life in prison and save you from ‘ole Sparky’, but I’m going to need two things to do that.”

  “I imagine they’re big things.”

  Uneasy tone. Fear?

  “No, Eric, they are small and easy. I want to know where I can find the missing girls. That’s one,” Virgil held up a finger. He raised another finger and said, “Two, you share with us the names of your three friends who like to hurt little girls and boys.”

  “I can’t help you.” His eyes went blank; Virgil and Vivian knew he wouldn’t tell. Ever.

  “Of course you can’t because you are pure scum-sucking trash. You are such a loser that you can’t have a real girlfriend or a relationship because you…you have a little bitty penis and women laugh at you behind your back. Everyone laughs. You’re a joke, and you know it, so you pick on little kids. I bet your buddies laugh when the state electrocutes you,” Vivian burst out the words. She was so cold and furious that her words seem to hang in the air for a few seconds.

  Virgil decided he would marry this woman.

  “If my deputy, Tobias, gets into your cell, you will wish you had made a deal. I promise you that you will scream, but that’s cruel of me. I’m a sheriff, and you have rights, but we’ll see. Let’s get you back to your cell, and we’ll talk again, Eric.”

  “Sure. Hey, I don’t go by my first name.”

  “Oh?”

  “I go by my middle name. Call me Stan.”

  Chapter Ten: All the King’s Men

  Over the next twenty-four hours, many situations arose and changed the investigation. In his cell, Stan didn’t think much about his position. He knew they had him for the murders, and that was that. He made a mistake in demeanor and caught the attention of the damned female deputy, and then she found the stupid bear that someone over-looked. Mistakes.

  But what a ride this had been. He had indulged in every fantasy he had ever had, had walked on the edge of life, and had boldly done what few others had the balls to do. The boy scouts were exciting. Seeing the look on the counselor’s face when she found the three girl scouts was the best high he had ever felt; it was like a drug that surged through him as he enjoyed the power.

  He felt like God.

  When he saw the horror on the crowd’s faces as the door rolled back on the van, he experienced a sexual release and thought for a few seconds that he was actually floating. He almost screamed with the pleasure of power and control, and it was worth his being in jail.

  However, he loved Lucy, Ronnie, and David and didn’t want to be tortured or tricked into telling on them because they were his blood now. They were family. He didn’t want to face the pissed-off deputy whose wife and daughter were killed. He reached his pentacle of success and was finished.

  He hoped the rest were never caught, but his time was done.

  Kurt found Stan dead in his cell, killed by his own hands with a torn bed sheet: hanged. The department felt glad in some respects, but the girls were still missing, he was their best hope of finding them, and they regretted that he had died so easily.

  Virgil and the deputies received praised from all over the state for capturing Stan, but the townspeople continued to scorn them since the girls remained unfound. The FBI showed up to offer help, but the agents were young and began questioning Virgil about his methods, meticulously reading notes and making more notes and helping less than they learned.

  Nick was hired as a deputy.

  Joey, after a lot of thought and talks with Janice, also took a position. He had his father’s blessings as long as Joey continued to take college classes as he had been.

  Janice took a job at the hospital and agreed to stay because of Joey and because Vivian and Nick wanted to live here, at least a while, but she wasn’t thrilled with the choice. This town was strange; it seemed to creep into her bones over several days, making her less than sure of herself and making her mind feel vague.

  They had camped there for two weeks, staying after the boys were killed, and then remaining in town at a motel. It had been over a month, but it felt as if Janice had been here forever; she disliked the town. She felt suspicious of it.

  When Janice learned she was pregnant, Joey had cried with happiness; Janice cried for other reasons, dread filling her soul.

  Sheriff Harding died quietly in his sleep.

  Virgil was the one who went to the hospital to tell Tobias that besides his daughter being slaughtered and displayed, his wife, Debbie, was also dead, and his youngest was missing. It was the hardest thing Virgil had ever done, and he found himself weeping as he delivered the news to his friend.

  Tobias, despite his doctor’s fears, didn’t become upset or manic but went as blank and unresponsive as a sheet of soggy note book paper, refusing to speak, make eye contact, or care for himself. Virgil cried, but Tobias only stared with empty eyes, his mind far away where it hid, trying to save itself. When Virgil waved a hand before his friend’s eyes, there was not even a blink in response.

  “What will happen now?” Virgil asked the doctor.

  “I don’t know. There’s no way to predict whether he will come out of it or remain this way. The loss of his oldest daughter broke his spirit and caused acute depression and stress. He was already in this state, Virgil. The loss of his wife and the disappearance of his youngest child have caused a break from our world.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  The doctor thought and said, “The idea of his losses and the fear for Charlene are too much for his mind. If he takes it all in, he will become overloaded and begin raving; therefore, to protect his very being, his mind shut down. Like when a breaker switch flips and shuts everything off so that something doesn’t overload and blow up and cause a fi
re.”

  “Did I cause it?”

  “No, you saw how he was before you said a word. He’s catatonic. If Charlene is found, there is a chance, even though it’s slim, that he could come out of this.”

  No pressure.

  Virgil went over his notes. Stan was the one, the man who smoked to the filter. That left three, and the three were concerned now, worried even, because the good guys had taken one of theirs.

  To the press, Virgil said that Stan had killed himself but only after providing valuable information that was going to lead to an arrest quickly. He pretended to be coaxed into admitting that he knew there were two young men and a woman involved but that he couldn’t identify them publically, yet. It was a gamble, but he hoped it would make the guilty parties nervous.

  The FBI agents were fascinated with what Virgil had done and drew useless charts about how Virgil’s processes could have led to Stan. It wasn’t enough that Tina had followed Virgil’s ideas and arrested Stan; they wanted to look at all the ways Stan fit the case.

  “Where’s Viv?”

  Nick shrugged, “She had some idea she wanted to follow. Something about some psychology thing and thought Janice could help. Last thing she said was that she was going to blow your mind when she showed you what she did with your ideas and strategies.”

  “That’s pretty murky. I wonder what she’s doing?”

  “Who knows? My sister is creative.”

  Virgil found he missed Vivian a lot and said, “She and I are going together now.”

  “Is that so? Well, good deal. I’m glad to hear that.”

  “How long have they been gone?”

  Nick looked at his watch, “Hmmm. Three hours.”

  Virgil frowned, “That’s a long time.” He began to tap out Mozart with one hand.

  Chapter Eleven: Water

  “I hope this impresses Virgil,” Vivian said as she and Janice drove. She didn’t know why her sister-in-law was so hesitant to join her on the drive or why she actually had to bully and push her into going. It was vexing.

  “Explain it again,” Janice asked.

  “I don’t know how to, but Virgil takes those things he sees and the statistics, and he comes up with an idea about the bad guy. Well, I was thinking that if we could do that for the physical part, then why couldn’t we do it for the personality? We could come up with personality types to fit certain crimes.”

  “Okay, I get that.”

  “You’re a nurse and know tons of medical stuff. The Medical Examiner is up to his eyeballs in bodies and can’t help, and besides, he deals with dead people. So, I thought what we need is a head doctor. A psychiatrist or psychologist, but there’s not one in town because I looked, but when Tina and I were out, we met one.”

  “That’s fortunate,” said Janice as she chewed her bottom lip.

  “I know. He is treating a very confused woman, but maybe he can help us and give us some ideas to use.” Vivian drove back to the old mansion that she loved. It was such a beautiful house, and maybe she could see more of it on this visit, if everything worked out.

  Vivian introduced David to Janice. David was surprised to see them, it seemed, but his eyes lit up, and he watched Janice’s every move; maybe Vivian needed to explain again that this was her married sister-in-law because David oozed charm.

  “Please sit down. What can I do for you?”

  Janice dared a glance at him and blushed, aware that Vivian was irritated, but David was a very attractive man and amazingly charming.

  The sitting room was cleaner and smelled of lemon polish. David served tea on a silver tray, and there were cups and saucers of china, painted pale violet and dotted with blue roses. Milk was in a small china pitcher, and silver tongs, used to pick up sugar cubes, were in a bowl filled with the tiny sugar cubes; the steaming tea was in a larger teapot painted with blue and cream-colored roses.

  Sitting there and drinking tea in the sitting room was like stepping back in time. He poured the tea, watching Janice.

  “My brothers took positions with the sheriff’s office. Nick and Joe, who is Janice’s husband. They’ve been married five years. Janice and Joey,” Vivian knew she was blabbering.

  “Happily?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I asked if they were happily married,” David said, smirking.

  Vivian cocked her head to the side, watching Janice and David Gaither. Some years back, Joey had bemoaned the fact that men were drawn to the quiet, nice-girl Janice, that she drank in their compliments, and that she was much too friendly, despite his jealousy and anger. They fought a lot back then, but the last year had been so much better.

  Janice was beautiful.

  In the last year, she was quieter, though, more attentive to Joey, and more settled into marriage. Vivian hoped David Gaither didn’t cause a problem between Janice and Joey now that they were moving to the town.

  David made small talk as they waited for Doctor Estell (Ronnie). “We read about the capture of one of the suspects. The paper said the rest of this gang soon would be arrested.”

  “Right. Virgil gave that interview. I wish it were true, but well, that’s why we need the doctor. We thought he could help us make a profile of the personalities of people who would do those things. That might help us catch the other three,” said Vivian who was glad to be back on track and talking about the subject that she had come to talk about.

  “In the paper, it was said the man who died gave up his accomplices?”

  “Oh, I wish. We tried, but he refused; please keep that between us?” Janice asked.

  Vivian felt oddly vulnerable.

  David nodded, “Of course. I won’t say a word. Oh, excuse me a second. I have some little cakes you’ll love.” His grey eyes twinkled, and he excused himself.

  “I love this house, Janice.” Vivian stood, by-passed the kitchen, but walked into the dining room where everything was so beautiful with the table, chairs, highboy, the server, and china cabinet matching the dark honey-oak hard wood floors. The furniture was more of a golden oak, worn to a satin finish. The original silk wall covering was a soft blue-violet silk with a low wainscoting and intricately carved crown molding of bleached oak. Drapes and cushions matched and were in a floral of violet and gold embroidery, worn and faded, but still pretty.

  They should be recovered in the same fabric and kept up, Vivian thought. Yellowed silk shears hung at the windows, and the lights were diaphanous. The only new and unworn item seemed to be the huge, periwinkle-colored rug with gold embroidery that filled the room.

  Someone bounded down the stairs, and Vivian waited a second and then peeked at the huge central staircase that wound in double loops to either wing. It was stunning. She skittered back, peeked into a library or den that had a fireplace, comfortable seats, and tons of books, and then hurried back.

  Vivian slid back into her spot three seconds before David came back with the little cakes. “You’ll love these: vanilla cakes with raspberries, and the icing is a specialty of mine, chocolate and coffee. You get sweet and tart and sweet and bitter together; well, everyone raves.”

  Vivian tried one, and it was as he said and very tasty although less bitter would have been better, but Janice liked her cake. Dr. Estell came in from the kitchen with a little plate of cakes on his plate and gave David a wink, offering him one. They each ate two as the women ate only one each.

  David watched Janice lick icing from her lips.

  “A personality profile. My, that’s an ambitious goal,” Ronnie said.

  “But possible?”

  “Yes, did your sheriff send you for this?”

  Janice smiled, “They don’t know. We want to surprise them with something helpful. The sheriff thinks we have a gang of three: two men and a woman doing this.”

  “Unusual.”

  “Exactly, so I thought we needed a personality profile,” Vivian explained, “can you help?”

  “I see. Well, it seems one would be the strong guy, the one who wou
ld never break and the good guy who hides secrets about his sexuality and so abuses boys and girls because of it. He would be the really smart one, and maybe disappointments and failures set him off, so he wanted to replace those with power and control.”

  “Is that one still on the loose or would it fit the guy who killed himself?”

  “The one who killed himself, did he die before he could help with the investigation?” Ronnie, as Doctor Estell, had sad eyes as he asked.

  Vivian shrugged, “I guess Virgil probably got more out of the interview than I did, and he has more ideas, but the guy really panicked, and no one knew he would kill himself. Why would he give up so fast?”

  “Maybe he didn’t give up as much as he was finished. In his mind, he was at the end of his work and feared facing parents who would be sick with shame and embarrassment, the types who would be sick with disappointment and disgust.”

  Vivian’s jaw dropped, “That’s amazing, Doctor. It’s as if you knew them. His parents refused to come here, and we have to get information through the department there. They went on and on about how ashamed they were of him….”

  “Assholes,” said Ronnie who was barely holding it together and only because he was hoping to save Lucy and David from being arrested. Stan’s parents were as selfish and heartless as always. No wonder Stan had killed himself.

  “Well, I guess….”

  Ronnie tried to think. It was all he could do to keep from crying over his best friend being gone. “As for the others, I can’t say that he would have been working with anyone else. Maybe he was doing it alone?”

  Vivian explained that the complexity and work involved with the van episode and the taking of the girls from the sleepover had been too much for one person, no matter how healthy he was. She thought the doctor would help more, but he seemed very distracted. “Is something wrong, Doctor? Is Lucy or David’s father worse?”

  “Worse? Oh, no, I just feel that the boy must have been working alone or at the worst, been in the company of some drifters.”